


That Which We Inherit

by PrecariousSauce



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Family, Gen, Not Canon Compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-14
Updated: 2014-08-14
Packaged: 2018-02-13 02:21:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2133462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrecariousSauce/pseuds/PrecariousSauce
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Sigyn finally married Loki, she also became the stepmother to four most unusual children. But Sigyn is nothing if not patient and adaptable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hel

**Author's Note:**

> This is mostly inspired by an old prompt from the Thor kink meme, though I did adapt it slightly. Mostly I just tossed out the original prompt's idea of Loki and Sigyn's marriage having been arranged because that trope has been done to death. Some important notes– I decided to have Hel be half-black crosswise instead of lengthwise, so basically everything from her stomach down is black. And "ásynja" is basically the feminine form of "aesir".

**i.** Since she was the smallest and would stay the smallest, it never quite hit Sigyn that Hel was the oldest of the children Sigyn had (for lack of a better term) inherited. Though she was ashamed of it now, before marrying Loki she'd never been fond of looking at Hel for too long. All she could focus on was the girl's paper white face, coal black hands and legs, and deep, dark sockets- No, not sockets, _eyes_. She needed to be vigilant in correcting herself. 

This was her daughter now, and no matter what she looked like, Sigyn swore she'd treat the girl like as if she had birthed her herself.

As she spent more time around Hel, she noticed that despite her stranger features, Hel was the spitting image of Loki. She had his high, sharp cheekbones, would most likely be as lanky as he was when she was fully grown, and smiled in much the same way– if any of Angrboda was in her, Sigyn couldn't see it.

However, when Sigyn watched Hel with other Asgardian children, she saw someone wholly different than either Loki or Angrboda.

Hel tried her best. She was a smart girl, far too smart for her age, and a kindhearted one as well. Often Hel would reach out to the other children, tentatively walking up to them and stammering out the beginning of a conversation. On good days, they would simply leave with a disgusted look. On bad days, they would scream, jeer, or throw things at her. More and more she saw Hel not trying at all, staying away from anyone not of her family and reading tomes her father had used at her age to learn magic.

The first time Sigyn had seen Hel try and fail, she was thrust back to memories that should not have been as clear as they were. Of her being rough-looking, boyish, and always covered in bruises or dirt even as a child. Of her trying to mix with girls and being mercilessly mocked and driven away. Of her needing to spend weeks proving herself loudly and angrily to mix with the boys, but by that time not even wanting it anymore.

There had been a quiet boy in green who had left her notes, little drawings, and small flowers to keep her from shutting herself away. Hel had no such luck.

* * *

 Sigyn's time as a soldier on the ground was carved into her bones, and she never felt comfortable not knowing where everyone important to her was and how they fared. So it was her way to wake up before most everyone and do a sweep to make sure her family was where they were supposed to be. Usually the only person she found awake was her Allfather-in-law, who she would share a meaningful stoic glance with and the occasional grunt.

This particular morning was different.

On her rounds, she strode up to Hel's room, quiet as she could be despite her naturally heavy footfalls. When she cracked open the door, she saw Hel not asleep in her bed, but sitting across from her mirror. She was just… staring at herself. Sigyn was just learning how to read Hel's eyes– for a while, she could never tell what the girl was looking at. Now… The little girl was focused on her pale skin, thin face, flat hair… 

Sigyn's heart ached as she remembered looking at her own thick eyebrows, her small eyes, and more recently the scars that cut across her face, through her mouth, into her cheek.

Hel spotted Sigyn in the mirror and with a small, breathless yelp she whipped around to face her stepmother. Sigyn smiled warmly at her in return.

"M-milady Sigyn," Hel sputtered, "D-do you need something?"

Sigyn put a hand to her chin; "Well, I didn't at first, but… Hel, may I ask a favor of you?" The little girl blinked in surprise before nervously smoothing out her nightgown and nodding– too quickly, too eager to please.

Sigyn pushed her pity back and let her smile turn to a grin; "Would you let me brush your hair?"

She could have laughed at the sight; Hel's jaw dropped at the request, dark eyes looking wider than ever. Sigyn heard a nagging guilt whisper to her that Hel was only this surprised because Sigyn had never gone out of her way to spend time with her before. She pushed it back.

"U-uhm… Alright," Hel murmured, staring now at her knees. Sigyn nodded, striding into the room. It didn't take her long to find a brush– Hel had a tendency to organize despite her young age, so every little thing had a clear and obvious place in her room. Even the girl's bed had been made with military precision. When the brush was found, Sigyn knelt down behind Hel and began her work.

She was silent for a while and Hel tried to be still, fidgeting only slightly under Sigyn's ministrations. The warrior ásynja took her time, carefully working out the little snarls and knots as gently as she could.

When she spoke up, she did so with as soft a voice as she could muster; "You and your father both have such lovely hair."

Hel leaned forward a bit, but Sigyn could see her light blush and small smile in the mirror; "Th-thank you."

"Would you like me to braid it when I'm done brushing it?"

Hel looked up at her in the mirror, eyebrows furrowed; "Do you know how?"

Sigyn spared her own auburn hair a glance before letting out a wry chuckle; "Yes, I do. Don't worry, the only hair I don't know how to take care of is my own." 

For the first time, Sigyn heard Hel laugh. It was a breathless, reedy sound, but Sigyn found it charming. She could definitely do with hearing it more often.

"Y-yes… Please, Milady," Hel replied.

Sigyn frowned slightly; "You know, if you want to, you don't have to call me 'Milady'. If you're comfortable with it, you could call me 'Mother'."

Hel gaped at her in the mirror; "… But… Wouldn't you mind? I mean… y-you're not _actually_ my mother, so…"

Sigyn let out a low chuckle as she started braiding Hel's hair; "By blood, no, I'm not. But blood matters little. The time we spend together, the things we learn from each other, the bonds we form– _that_ is what makes a family."

Hel was staring intently at the floor, rolling Sigyn's words over in her mind as the ásynja continued, "I know I've avoided you in the past, and I'm sorry for that. Would you let me make up for my mistakes and spend more time with you now?"

Hel moved to nod, but remembered the braid and instead replied, "… Yes. I'd… like that."

"Thank you very much, Hel," Sigyn said, finishing off the braid. "There we go. All done." Hel craned her neck at an odd angle to try and get a look at the braid in the mirrior. When she did, she turned around to beam up at Sigyn.

"It looks so pretty!" Hel chirped.

"Well, it's fitting. A pretty braid for a pretty girl," Sigyn laughed, tapping Hel lightly on the nose and bringing another reedy laugh from her.

She stood up and offered a hand down to Hel; "I'm going to go around the palace and check up on the rest of our family. Would you like to come with me?"

Hel scrambled to her feet, nodding quickly out of excitement instead of nerves; "Y-yes, I want to Mi- Mother!"

Sigyn beamed as she took Hel's small black hand in hers and lead the way out and down the corridor.


	2. Jörmungandr

**ii.** Perhaps it spoke to how strange Sigyn herself was that she'd never found Jörmungandr that disconcerting. Indeed, overhearing him speak for the first time did give her a shock, but the shock wore off. Soon enough, Jörmungandr seemed a regular presence to her; often she'd see him just slithering away from around the corner, or catch a glimpse of him coiled around Loki, his scales the same brilliant green as his father's eyes.

Though Hel was the first of Loki's children Sigyn had seen, Jörmungandr was the first she ever formally met before her and Loki's marriage. That "formal meeting" involved Sigyn tripping over him and landing flat on her face.

As she had picked herself up (silently berating herself for not watching where she was walking), she heard the serpent's warbled laugh from behind her– the voice of a boy coming from a creature several feet longer than one. When Sigyn turned to frown at him, he coiled up and around a nearby pillar so he could more easily look down on her.

"It's not polite to trip people," Sigyn noted dryly, brushing the dust off her armor.

"I'd say it's equally impolite to ignore people simply because they're lower to the ground than you," the serpent countered, the frills that covered his ear-holes flaring slightly. Sigyn raised an eyebrow, the ghost of a smirk on her lips; it seemed _someone_ had inherited his father's nimble tongue. 

Sigyn closed her eyes and sighed, "I will concede that you're right. I should have watched my step, I'm sorry. Did I hurt you when I tripped over you?"

Jörmungandr's serpentine face was impossible for her to read, but as he stared at her for a few seconds too long and the frills on his head twitched, she could almost swear he was surprised.

"… No," Jörmungandr replied slowly. Sigyn smirked in earnest; he truly was a child.

"Here's the thing about playing tricks," the ásynja remarked, stepping closer to the pillar, "They work best when you don't stick around to laugh at the freshly tricked."

"I don't slither that fast," Jörmungandr muttered, slowly slinking back to the floor.

"Maybe you should get your father to teach you some disappearing magic," Sigyn suggested. Jörmungandr just let out an incomprehensible hiss, slaloming between Sigyn's feet before slithering away.

From that day on, Sigyn had made an effort to speak to Jörmungandr whenever he crossed her path. The more she spoke with the serpent, the more he reminded her of his father; they developed a similar rapport to the one Sigyn had developed with Loki– Jörmungandr doing most of the talking and Sigyn only speaking when she truly had something to add. Or if he needed to be discouraged from a trick that seemed particularly cruel.

Sigyn understood why mischief appealed to him. He was clever, and nothing escaped his gaze. But as he was young, what he saw stuck with him. What he saw were the other aesir ignoring him, whispering about him, his father, his siblings, when he was supposedly out of earshot. What he saw was his own grandfather sparing him only glares– or worse, not looking at him at all.

Jörmungandr slowly but surely started following Sigyn around. Like his father, he couldn't be caught dead trying to purposely form a bond with someone. Often he would "accidentally" run into Sigyn when she was training alone, or "just happen" to come across her when she made her forays into the palace's vast library. 

One evening, Loki had found them both there, Jörmungander coiled around Sigyn and listening intently as she read aloud from a book he had picked and she didn't quite understand.

That was the evening he finally asked her to marry him.


	3. Sleipnir

**iii.** Sleipnir was the hardest for Sigyn to connect with. For whatever intelligence he may have had, he was the only one who could not speak. From afar, it was difficult to see him as anything more than a normal horse with a few extra legs. She always felt lost when she and Loki were with him, as Loki could speak with his son so easily and so tenderly, but Sigyn felt alienated from this animal she was supposed to call her son. For this reason she had stayed as silent as she could whenever Loki and Odin spoke of him– well, "spoke" was a polite term. 

Any time Sleipnir came up, the conversation always devolved into a shouting match between her husband and father-in-law. Frigga always tried to intervene as a neutral voice of reason, and whenever the time came for her to speak Sigyn tried her best to emulate her. Her brother in law and in arms, Thor, took a similar position; often they would share hopeless glances while Loki and Odin thundered back and forth at each other. Truthfully, she wasn't sure which side to take. So she chose neither. This would often lead to more arguments, this time between her and Loki behind closed doors. 

She did know one thing for sure– That Odin would even consider, let alone go through with using his own grandson as a mount… That, she could never agree with. 

Sigyn was a skilled warrior, but she was infantry, not cavalry. She had rarely gone to the stables before she had inherited Sleipnir as a stepchild. Therefore, she almost couldn't find him the first time she went to visit him alone (an undertaking she did mostly on Loki and her other children's urgings). She only found him because when she stumbled upon Sleipnir, she stumbled upon Odin as well. It took only a second's deduction for Sigyn to see Odin had just come back from taking Sleipnir out to some realm or another. 

Odin and Sigyn shared their customary stoic nod of greeting, but Sleipnir broke the silence by letting out an excited whinny at the sight of his stepmother. Sigyn could only blink. They had met perhaps twice before, and she had been hopelessly awkward both times as she tried to converse as easily with him as Loki did, but he recognized her and was excited to see her all the same. She… hadn't quite been expecting that.

She approached him with a smile; "Hello, Sleipnir." She held out the apple she'd brought for him, but instead of simply eating it out of her hand, Sleipnir sniffed it twice before looking to her with expectant eyes. She could see a spark in them, a light shining apart from the many horses of this stable. 

Sigyn's smile widened as she said, "Yes, it's for you. You can have it." _Now_ Sleipnir ate the apple out of her hand, nickering appreciatively when he was done. Sigyn absently stroked her stepson's mane, lost in her thoughts.

She felt like an idiot. How had she not seen Sleipnir's intelligence before? She supposed it was because she'd never been alone with him; whenever she and Loki together saw him, Loki monopolized him. She couldn't blame him– now that Sleipnir was the Allfather's mount, Loki rarely got to visit his son. Any moments he could get were precious. Loki treated all his children with the same love and tenderness– even if Sleipnir had only the mind of a normal horse, Loki would have treated him no different.

She was snapped out of her reverie by Odin's voice, softer than she'd ever heard it; "He is a polite one, isn't he?" 

Sigyn blinked her surprise away before nodding; "He's just as intelligent as the rest of the children…" Sigyn pursed her lips, silent for a moment, then looked Odin in the eye.

"Allfather, forgive my impertinence, but you know that he's more than a beast of burden," Sigyn said, trying to keep her voice firm despite herself. "Why do you treat him as one?"

Odin looked at her for a long time, face unreadable. Just when she was fearing she'd offended the Allfather, Odin placed his own hand on Sleipnir's neck with a heavy sigh. Suddenly, he looked very old.

"Because treating him as such may be the only way to save him," Odin murmured. 

Sigyn furrowed her eyebrows, and despite how she knew she wouldn't like the answer, she asked, "What do you mean?"

Odin's eye stayed focused on Sleipnir; "A time will come when Hel, Jörmungandr and Fenrir must leave Asgard. For their own protection and for ours. Sleipnir would be sent off with them… But if he is my mount, then he can stay near his family."

When Odin's eye moved to meet Sigyn's, he found her small, dark eyes burning and her mouth set into a scowl; she growled, more to herself than to him, "That won't happen. Nobody will take our children from us."

When Sleipnir let out a concerned nicker, Sigyn's eyes softened again and she smiled up at him; "Don't worry, Sleipnir. I'll do everything I can to keep us together." She didn't spare the Allfather a second glance when she left the stable, and he just watched her leave, surprised and saddened by how much she sounded like her husband.


	4. Fenrir

**iv.** Fenrir was the child who warmed to her the quickest. She supposed that was because he was still young– he still didn't quite know the cruelty of others he was all but destined to know. He was still naiive enough to trust.

Sigyn made the best of that trust. She played with Fenrir whenever she could, mostly playing games of tag with him and Hel or wrestling with him. Sometimes she'd have to oversee Fenrir and Jörmungandr's own playful wrestling matches, which Jörmungandr's cunning won every time. Fenrir accompanied Sigyn when she made her rounds around the palace, chattering at her about anything that popped into his mind. 

In the evenings he liked joining her, Hel and Jörmungandr when she read aloud to them, though now Jörmungandr was too large to curl around Sigyn. Now she would sit on one of Jörmungandr's coils with Fenrir's large head on her lap and Hel tucked against her side. Doubtless the three children would fall asleep like this, and Loki would find her just sitting there, staring thoughtfully at them.

Usually the two of them would leave the children without a word, but one night she smiled up at him and said, "This is nice."

Her husband smiled back down at her, a rare unrestrained look of fondness; "Indeed."

As Loki settled in beside her, Sigyn closed her eyes and leaned her head back with a sigh; "I just… I want it to stay like this."

Her husband's long fingers threaded through her hair, and she could hear him whisper, "It will. We aren't getting separated." Sigyn leaned her head into the crook of his neck; all she could do for now was believe in those words.

* * *

Fenrir having the energy of both a young boy and a puppy was tolerable to the other Asgardians of the palace when he was still small. But like Jörmungandr, he grew larger and larger by the day. Sigyn accompanied him often, just to make sure his clumsiness didn't get him into too much trouble.

Despite her efforts, it did. Most of Fenrir's accidents mostly came as a result of simply being too big to fit into most places in the palace. Loki estimated that when he was fully grown, Fenrir would probably be about the size of a draft horse. Before long there was talk of moving Fenrir outside the palace.

This sparked the fiercest fight to date between Odin and Loki, now with Sigyn fully backing her husband. It grew so intense that Thor had to physically restrain Loki at one point. No decision was made that night, but Sigyn reasoned that the shouting could be heard around the whole palace and had probably knocked several things down. Fenrir had sat silently with his tail between his legs the whole time, but when it was over he knocked over two torches and a table ambling out of the room. 

Sigyn was the first to follow her stepson, and it really wasn't that difficult. Fenrir was clumsy even when he was calm, but with how emotional he was now following his trail of destruction was as simple as breathing.

She found Fenrir in a courtyard far from the center of the palace, whimpering to himself. The ásynja hurried to his side and put a hand on his flank; "Fenrir, dear, don't cry."

Fenrir looked over at her with large, plaintive eyes, and mumbled, "Am I bad, Mother?"

Sigyn stroked his fur, murmuring, "No, no of course not. This isn't your fault at all."

The wolf stared at her for a moment before suddenly asking, "Mother, why am I big?"

She put a hand to her chin; "Well… I suppose you got your size from your birth mother, Angrboda."

Fenrir's ears flattened; "Why isn't my birth mother with us? Did something happen to her?"

Sigyn bit the inside of her lower lip; Hel and Jörmungandr already knew why Angrboda wasn't a part of their lives… it seemed Fenrir didn't yet. Sadly, Sigyn knew just enough to break the news.

"No, Fenrir," Sigyn sighed. "Angrboda didn't want to be a mother. She and your father… They didn't love each other. So she left you three with him."

Fenrir started whimpering again; "Did she not want me because she knew I'd be too big? Because she knew I'd wreck things?"

Sigyn pulled the large pup into a hug, mostly so he didn't have to see her own tears forming; "You don't wreck things, my love. You bring me and your father nothing but joy. Angrboda and your grandfather just can't see what's wonderful about you, and they don't matter."

"What is wonderful about me?" Fenrir wondered, ears perking up.

Sigyn drew back with a smile; "Well, you're constantly cheerful, and that cheer makes me, your father, your uncle Thor, and all of your siblings happy whenever they see you. And also…" Sigyn scratched behind Fenrir's ear, sending him crashing to the ground, leg twitching and tail wagging, "You're just so cute!"

Fenrir laughed as Sigyn scratched his belly, tail wagging all the while. The pup's laughter was infectious, and Sigyn laughed with him until she finally let up.

Sigyn smiled and stroked Fenrir's head; "I love you very much, Fenrir. Your father and I are going to make sure we all stay together. You'll see."

Fenrir just responded by licking Sigyn's cheek, which was more than good enough for her.


	5. Narfi and Váli

**v.** When Sigyn found out she was pregnant, she was terrified. She dreaded what it would do to her, both before and after the birth of her child. She dreaded not being able to fight– even when she had doubted other things about who she was, she had always known one thing: Sigyn is a warrior. Were she to lose that… She didn't want to think of it.

But more terrified than her was Loki. If this child turned out like the last four, they too would be an outcast or a slave. Maybe him creating another monster would be the last straw, and they would all be ripped from his hands. 

The two of them were afraid, but they couldn't deny this child a chance out of fear.

Sigyn tried to make the best of her nine bitter months, despite the fear hanging over her head and how unpleasant she found the entire experience. Her mother-in-law had never been kinder to her than she was during this time, which was a blessing. She and Frigga had been cordial to each other, but Sigyn had never quite gotten close to her as she had to Frigga's two sons. 

Hel, Jörmungandr and Fenrir hovered around her in awe when she began to show, the phenomenon entirely new to them. However, when she told them what her pregnancy meant, they all panicked. They frantically asked her not to leave them for her baby, especially if her baby came out normal. It took her an hour to reassure them that they would always be her children.

The actual birth of her child, she barely remembered. The pain was about as bad as what she had experienced in the battle that scarred her face, everything was blurred by the pain and exhaustion. When it was over, she was faced with two revelations.

First– She had not been carrying one child, but two.

Second– The twin boys were a pair of perfectly normal Asgardian infants. 

What she remembered most clearly was when she and Loki were finally left alone with their sons. She held one at her breast, and the other was asleep in Loki's arms. Sigyn smiled wearily at her husband, who's tear-rimmed eyes were fixed on the newborn in his arms.

After a moment, he whispered, "They're beautiful."

"Indeed," Sigyn breathed, leaning her head back and closing her eyes. "… I am not doing that ever again."

Loki just laughed, running a hand through her sweat-dampened hair. 

The boy asleep in her husband's arms would be named Narfi, and the one she held Váli. 

* * *

Sigyn and Loki feared that their sons would not mix with their siblings, would be scared of them, but their two new children proved to be just as strange as their parents. As infants, they never cried at the sight of their siblings. In fact, Váli in particular was quite fond of being looked after by Hel even at so young an age.

The twins grew at the normal pace for Asgardian children. Narfi soon proved himself to be Loki's mirror image in terms of looks and intelligence. Hel would read magical tomes to Narfi, and they would pass small charms back and forth or cast minor illusions just to see if they could. Váli had his mother's wavy auburn hair and insatiable desire to get into fights; often he'd try to wrestle Fenrir or Jörmungandr, their size simply not occurring to him.

Often Narfi and Váli would have little arguments about who was going to marry Hel when they were older, something that brought no shortage of breathless laughter from their older sister. Sigyn was just glad she had two more children she could actually bring into the stables to visit Sleipnir– the other horses would be easily spooked by Jörmungandr or Fenrir, so any time Sleipnir spent with his brothers was spent outside the stable and outside of Odin's watchful gaze. Váli would sometimes sneak into the stables with an apple for Sleipnir and tons of things to talk about.

Both children also proved to be quite perceptive, as they realized very soon that while their grandfather and many other palace-dwellng aesir doted on them, none of them showed that love to their older siblings. Though the other Asgardian children tried to reach out to them, Narfi and Váli much preferred the company of their siblings.

Sigyn was still floored by how quickly Narfi and Váli accepted their siblings, but she supposed that was the benefit of childhood– when you were so young, you didn't have walls up in your mind, and could accept a large wolf, a six-legged horse and a gigantic serpent as your siblings without question.

These early years of Narfi and Váli's life were happy, but Summer always turned to Winter. So too did these days end.


	6. let the pieces fall where they may

**vi.** Fenrir was the first. The decision was finally made– on Frigga's urgings, as Odin was well past the point of actually listening to his son– that Fenrir would be placed somewhere big enough to fit him comfortably, and under someone else's watch.

The first to cry out against the Allfather's decision was not Loki or Sigyn. It was Váli, shouting through tears that Odin just couldn't imprison his brother, that it wasn't fair. The tears of his son only made Loki's rage all the worse, the throne room nearly destroyed before Fenrir's frightened whimpers forced him to calm down.

Though Odin had said he was to pick Fenrir's jailer, Sigyn ignored his words and chose someone herself. If she could not raise her son, she was at least allowed the choice of who could for her.

She eventually chose Tyr. No matter what Tyr thought of her or Loki, she knew he would be fair to Fenrir. But she still made a point of letting him know he'd taste her blade if her son was at all unhappy.

* * *

Jörmungandr was next. He was simply too large to stay in the palace, and would grow larger still. There was no other place for him but the ocean of Midgard. Despite his outrage, there was little Loki could do to argue against it, nor could Thor and Sigyn do much to help him. Sigyn could only pry one more night with Jörmungandr out of Odin. That would be the very last night she read to him, out of the book Loki had caught her reading to him all those years ago.

Every night since then, Sigyn would read it until she finally understood it.

* * *

Third was Hel. She was given a realm and a throne, but Sigyn and Loki both railed against the "honor" Odin was granting her.

But Hel… before the Allfather, she gave a tight smile and brittle words to pacify her parents. She said it was best for everyone this way, and that she would be honored to rule over the dead. She kept her head held high and her black hands clasped properly until she and her parents left the throne room.

The young woman– but still a little girl in Sigyn's heart– crumpled against her father's chest and wept, black tears cutting lines down her stark white cheeks. Loki's rage fizzled out, and all he could do was hold her as tightly as he could. As if holding her there could keep her from leaving them. Sigyn came in close, an arm around Loki and her other hand stroking Hel's hair. 

"I– I don't want to go," Hel sobbed, her deep dark eyes turning up to Sigyn's face.

"Dry your tears, love. This is not goodbye," Loki whispered, his voice thick, "I promise you, we will all meet again."

Sigyn could read Hel's eyes easily now. She could see that her daughter didn't believe that, couldn't believe it. But all the same, she needed to hear it. She would need something to hold onto in the cold, quiet realm she was being sent away to.

* * *

And last was Loki. 

Sigyn stood with him through his coup d'etat– not because she thought he was right, or because she thought he had the makings of a good king, but because she knew in her heart she couldn't point a blade at her husband.

Nobody was quite sure how to speak to her or Narfi and Váli now. They were content to whisper behind her back, and that was just fine– it was nothing she wasn't used to. 

Sigyn stood now in the middle of what remained of the Bifrost, simply staring at the waves below. Her mind felt empty and her shoulders weighed down by more than her armor and cloak. She turned to the familiar heavy footsteps coming her way, and gave Thor a mirthless smile in greeting.

Thor returned it before placing a hand on her shoulder; "How do you fare, Sister?"

Sigyn snorted; "Surprised you still call me that, for one. What tied us is gone, Thor, fallen beyond Heimdall's sight."

Thor shook his head; "Even before your marriage you were my sister in arms. And you should know better than any that blood does not matter. You are my sister still, Sigyn. As he is still my brother."

The ásynja's eyes drifted out to the water once more; "Do you truly believe he still lives?"

"There is always hope, Sigyn," Thor replied, squeezing Sigyn's shoulder. "He will return to us. They all will."

Sigyn smiled, small but warm; "You think of them still, do you?"

Thor smiled in return; "I could never forget them."

Sigyn's eyes drifted to the sky. He was right, hope still remained. After all, she had made a promise to her children that they would be together. And a true warrior never broke her oaths.


End file.
